XI.
he following morning Fritz went early to the Wartburg. This, his last day, he would spend with his little playmate. Some time before he reached the castle, as he was walking up the hill, he caught sight of Katrina standing in the courtyard.
She made a lovely picture dressed in white, with her pigeons all about her; while in the background was the old, ivy-covered wall. Back and forth her pets were swarming; some ate the grain she had just scattered on the ground, while others preened themselves upon the brink of the now dilapidated fountain.
But as Fritz drew near, and his footsteps sounded on the gravel, there was a scurry and a rustle of wings; while very soon the birds were lost to sight in their lofty retreat in the tower. Katrina, however, the moment she spied Fritz coming, gave a little cry of pleasure, and ran to the gates to meet him.
“I was sure that thou wouldst come,” she said, “and dost thou know, Fritz, I could declare I heard thee walking here last evening, I know thy step so well. But,” the little girl added, as she took her playmate by the hand, “mütterchen said it was only fancy, that of course you wouldn’t be here at the castle without coming in to see us. I knew that too, Fritz; so though I thought I heard thee passing the window twice, I laughed at the very thought of thy going by just as if thou wert a ghost.”
To this Fritz said not a word. For some reason he felt that he wished to keep as a secret that which the Ivy told him; so, in consequence, would say nothing about his twilight visit to the Wartburg.
“Fritz, Fritz!” Katrina suddenly exclaimed, and it seemed as though a cloud had passed suddenly across the sun, so quick was the change in Katrina’s face. “Is it true that thou art really going to leave to-morrow?”
“Yes, Katrina, the count has written that he will send for me Thursday morning. Thou knowest the promise my father made him. But at first the count was too ill to send for me; in fact it was only the other day he was told of my father’s death.”